Domestic Bliss
by The Communist Unicorn
Summary: Dean and Cas are happily married with a six month old baby. Dean just started a new job, and life is busy but in a good way. Then Cas notices that Dean isn't wearing his wedding ring. (human!AU, Destiel, much less angsty than the summary makes it sound)


**Warnings: **This story contains non-explicit sex with an m/m pairing, discussion of homophobia, discussion of child abuse, and references to a past suicide attempt. That said, it's not nearly as depressing as it sounds. In fact, it's mostly fluff.

This was inspired by a weird confluence of random things. I was watching 4.17, "It's a Terrible Life", and that episode always gives me AU ideas, and I had recently had a conversation with a friend about coming out and how it never really ends. Every time you meet new people you have to take that plunge all over again and be prepared for them to react badly. Anyway, the two things combined in my head, and this happened. I added in the Sabriel stuff mostly because HollieElisabeth said it couldn't be done, and I am a contrary person who can't resist a challenge. (To Hollie: I'm not saying this is serious literature, but I don't think it's crack either. Let me know what you think.)

Like all my stories I could probably expand this indefinitely, but I already have a multi-chapter story in progress, so this will be remaining a one shot for now. Happy reading, and please leave a review if you like it =)

* * *

It had been a really good day. Claire had taken a two hour nap, and Cas had managed to finish his next article _and_ all the laundry, and he had spaghetti with homemade meatballs waiting when Dean came home. Claire got more of her dinner in her hair than in her stomach, so Dean gave her a bath while Cas cleaned up the kitchen. Cas could hear them both laughing over the running water, Claire's baby giggles the perfect harmony to Dean's deeper music.

Once Claire was in bed, hopefully for the night, Dean drew Cas down the hall to their room and undressed him torturously slow, kissing every inch of skin as it was exposed. Cas didn't try to hurry him. After three years of marriage, he could tell when his husband was in a mood, and he just laid back and enjoyed the ride.

Later, much later, basking in the warm afterglow, Dean still sprawled half on top of him, that was when Cas noticed it. He reached out to touch Dean's wedding ring, a habit he had developed in the early days of their marriage when he frequently needed reassurance that this was real and not a dream, that this wonderful man was really all his forever. And it wasn't there.

"Dean? Where's your ring?"

"Huh? Oh. Must still be in my pants pocket."

"Why?" Cas was trying really hard not to jump to conclusions, but … But Dean _never_ took his ring off. He even wore it in the shower. Suddenly tonight's mood took on a different and terrifying meaning. Hadn't he read somewhere that cheating spouses often became extra affectionate and attentive in bed out of guilt or overcompensation?

"Whoa. Hey. No, no, no, no, no." Dean sat up to look Cas in the eye, and Cas knew his thoughts were written all over his face. "It's not like _that_. Come on, baby. You know me better than that."

Cas sat up too, unconsciously moving a little away from Dean and pulling his knees up to his chest in a defensive posture. He wished they weren't having this conversation while naked. He wished they weren't having this conversation period. He wanted nothing more than to rewind back to their perfect evening, him and Dean and Claire, a happy little family. But he would not live a lie. Never again.

"Answer the question please," he said, his voice hardly louder than the soft breathing filtering through the baby monitor on the nightstand. "Why did you take off your ring?"

Dean sighed, and there was hurt in his eyes, but also understanding. He knew about Cas's uncompromising relationship with the truth, and he knew the reasons for it, so he looked steadily into his husband's eyes as he explained. "I take it off when I'm at work because no one there knows that I'm gay, and I'm afraid that someone will see my ring and ask about my wife, and then I'll have to choose between outright lying or …" He sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face. "I know it's stupid and probably no one will even care. I just … I didn't realize that this new job would mean coming out all over again. It was hard enough the first time."

Cas's heart broke. He uncurled from his defensive ball and pulled Dean back into his arms, murmuring, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You're right. I do know better. I shouldn't have mistrusted you for even a second. Can you forgive me, my love?"

"Course," Dean said, pressing his face into the curve of Cas's neck. "Wasn't a completely unreasonable assumption." He clung to Cas as tightly as he sometimes did in the aftermath of a nightmare.

"Nevertheless, I'm sorry," Cas repeated, stroking Dean's hair. "Why didn't you tell me about this sooner, Dean? God, it must have been eating you alive. Why didn't you talk to me?"

"Didn't want you to think I was ashamed of you. And besides, it's so stupid. We've been out for years. We got married in front of, like, a hundred people. It doesn't get much more out than that. I should be past this."

Cas pulled away just enough to look Dean in the eye. "I have a confession," he said. "Sometimes when I take Claire with me to the grocery store or the library, people, mostly older women, come over and tell me how nice it is that I'm giving my wife a break. And I just nod and smile. I don't correct them, partly because it's none of their business, but also because I'm a little afraid of how they might react to the truth."

He stroked Dean's cheek. "I don't think we'll ever get past this. I think it's been a part of our lives for far too long, but we could both work on not letting fear rule our actions. I know you're not ashamed, Dean, just as you know that _I'm_ not, but I'm worried about how we're going to communicate that to Claire. She's growing so fast. I'm sure she already understands more than we realize. It's our job to make sure she's proud of who she is and where she comes from. I'm not saying we should hide our fears from her. In fact, just the opposite. Let her see that we're afraid, and let her see us stand tall and be who we are anyway. Can you do that? For our daughter?"

"Yeah," Dean said, his eyes shining in the semidarkness. He rested his head against Cas's for a moment, and then he climbed out of the bed and found his discarded pants. He pulled a silver ring out of one of the pockets, but he didn't put it on yet. Instead he got back into bed and held out the ring to Cas.

Cas smiled when he realized what Dean wanted. He took Dean's left hand in his own right and slid the ring onto his finger just as he had on their wedding day. And just like then, he leaned forward and kissed his husband soundly on the lips. "I love you," he murmured as he pushed Dean back down into the pillows. After ruining the mood with his paranoid freak out, he felt like he owed Dean another orgasm. Plus, by some miracle Claire was still sleeping peacefully, and it had been months since they'd had the time or the energy for more than one round.

"Love you too," Dean gasped, arching up into Cas. "Only you. Don't want anyone else."

"I know," Cas reassured him. "Hush, my love. It's all right. I promise I'll never doubt you again."

~o0o~

Dean kept his left hand in his pocket as he rode the elevator up to his office on the twentieth floor of Sandover Tower. His thumb rubbed nervously against the smooth band of his wedding ring.

_It'll be fine. Probably no one will even say anything._

He'd only worked here for a month, and he hadn't exactly gone out of his way to make friends. He'd overheard someone use the word standoffish to describe him, and that was fair. He talked to his coworkers about the weather, traffic, or the game, but he never volunteered any personal information. No one here knew that he was originally from Kansas but grew up in South Dakota. They didn't know that he was adopted, or that his biological father had nearly killed him in a drunken rage when Dean was six years old. They didn't know that he had struggled with depression in his teenage years and had come very close to taking the easy way out. And they didn't know that he had a husband and a six month old daughter, both of whom he would take a bullet for without a second thought.

Sometimes he missed his old job, missed having friends to eat lunch with, people who would ask about his family instead of his football team, but who also knew _not_ to ask about the scars on his wrists. But Sandover paid better (he and Cas were determined to send Claire to private school because public school these days was little better than sending your child to the ninth circle of hell), and he was actually getting the chance to use his hard won degree. He hadn't spent six years and tens of thousands of dollars just for a piece of paper that said "architectural engineer".

He made it all the way to his office without talking to anybody, although that really tall weirdo from IT smiled and waved to him like always. Dean wondered, not for the first time, if the guy was flirting. _Sorry, Bigfoot. I'm spoken for._

Before he even turned on his computer, he reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out the picture frame Cas had given him on his first day at the new job. It was one of those double frames that folded like a book. The left side held a picture from their wedding, both of them looking sharp in tuxes and bowties. Cas had his arms around Dean's waist, and he was whispering something in Dean's ear. Something dirty if Dean recalled correctly. They were very obviously in love, and their brand new rings were clearly visible where their hands were intertwined over Dean's heart.

But if that wasn't inescapably clear enough, the picture on the right showed them in the reverse position, Dean hugging Cas from behind, his chin resting on Cas's shoulder as they both gazed in awe at the tiny infant cradled in Cas's arms. Their daughter.

Dean put the pictures on his desk. Facing towards him so not every single person who walked into his office would see them, but they were out in the open. It was a step in the right direction. He turned on his computer and got to work, and every time he glanced at the pictures he felt a little braver and a little more at peace, just like he felt when he was in his husband's arms or looking into his daughter's bright, trusting eyes.

Three hours later his computer froze. He took a deep breath, turned it off, counted to ten, and turned it back on. Nope. Nothing. He did that twice more. _Then_ he called IT.

"Did you try —"

"Turning it off and on again? Three times."

"Okay. We'll send someone up."

Since he couldn't get any work done, while he was waiting he called Cas.

"Hey, babe. What's up?" Cas sounded a little out of breath.

"Not much. My computer died. What are _you_ doing?"

"I am attempting to put away groceries. Oh, no, no, no. Claire, don't touch that. Here. You want an apple to play with? There you go."

"Just wait till she learns to walk," Dean chuckled. "She's gonna get into everything."

"I know," Cas said with equal parts pride and exasperation. "Oh, sh—" He caught himself just in time and corrected it to, "Shoot. She tore a hole in the bag of rice, and it's leaking everywhere. I'll have to sweep the floor or we'll get mice again."

"Okay. Sounds like you've got your hands full. I'll let you go. I just wanted to hear your voice and tell you I love you."

"I love you too," Cas said, and Dean could hear a smile in his voice. The soft, warm smile he reserved only for Dean and Claire. "Will you be late tonight?"

"I might. Depends how long it takes to fix this computer issue. Not later than seven though. I promise."

"Okay. I'll try to push Claire's nap so she'll be awake when you get home." That was the deal they'd made when Dean started this new job. Home life came first, and if he missed Claire's bedtime two days in a row then he was working too much and they needed to address the issue immediately. But bedtime itself could be a little flexible provided Cas knew in advance that Dean would be running late.

There was a knock on his open office door, and Dean looked up to see …_ Oh, crap. They sent the flirty Sasquatch._ "I'll text you if things change," Dean said to Cas as he motioned for the guy to come in. "Give Claire Bear a kiss for me."

"I will. Oh, no. She's about to bite into an onion. No, Claire, you don't want tha—"

The call cut off as Cas raced to the baby's rescue, and Dean turned his attention to the giant standing awkwardly in the middle of his office. "Sam Wesson. IT," the giant said a little uncertainly as though he was used to having to justify his enormous presence.

"Dean Smith. I know nothing about computers, so if you can get this devil machine working, I'll just chalk it up to your magical powers, and we'll say no more about it."

That got a chuckle. "May I?" Sam said, pointing to Dean's chair.

"Sure." Dean relinquished his seat and took the less comfortable chair on the other side of the desk.

Sam started by turning the computer off and back on. While he was waiting for it to boot up, his eyes flickered to the picture frame sitting beside the monitor. Dean tried not to hold his breath.

"You have a kid?"

Okay. Hopeful start. "Yeah. Claire. She's six months old."

"Did you guys adopt or use a surrogate?"

Dean blinked.

"Sorry. That was kind of personal," Sam said, his cheeks flushing. "It's just my husband and I have been talking about kids, but we don't have any gay friends who've been through the process, so we're kind of relying on the internet for all our information."

Dean couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. "I'm not laughing at you," he said, seeing Sam's bewildered, slightly hurt expression. "This is just kind of surreal. I've been keeping those pictures in my desk drawer for weeks, and just today I finally got up the courage to put them out in the open, and obviously I was hoping no one would be weird about it, but I didn't think the very first reaction I got would be, 'Let's talk adoption versus surrogacy.' Oh, Cas is gonna crack up when I tell him about this."

"Cas? That's your husband?"

"Yeah. Married three years. You?"

"Two and a half. I actually thought I was completely straight until I met Gabe. Still not sure exactly how he changed my mind about that. Did the whole big gay panic thing, but then I realized I'd never been so happy in my life, so what the hell did it matter if he wasn't a girl, you know? Am I over sharing? I've been told that I have a tendency to do that."

"No. Well … a little," Dean admitted, "but it's fine. And I know what you mean. Me and Cas were both still in the closet when we met. Spent most of our first year together sneaking around, terrified of someone finding out. It nearly broke us up. And then one day I thought, to hell with what anyone else thinks. I love him, and I am not gonna lose him over this bullshit." Dean chuckled to himself. "Turned out everyone who mattered didn't give a damn. You'd think I'd have learned something from that."

"So can I ask …" Sam said hesitantly.

"Surrogate. My sister actually, which yeah, I know, nine kinds of weird. My sister had my baby. We heard _all_ the jokes. But I'm actually adopted, so we're not related by blood, and she was willing to do it for free. Surrogacy is normally really expensive."

"So I've heard. Fifty grand is the low end of the spectrum, and that's not even counting medical insurance. But it makes sense I guess. I mean, much as I want kids, you couldn't pay me enough to go through actual childbirth."

"Ugh, I know. My mom always jokes that if the men had to have the babies, the human race would go extinct, and after watching Claire being born, I completely agree. Way too much blood."

The whole time they were talking Sam had been tapping away at Dean's keyboard almost absentmindedly. Now the computer gave a happy little chime, and all Dean's work reappeared on the screen.

Dean's mouth dropped open. "Oh, my God. You really do have magic powers."

Sam laughed. "Any time. I'll let you get back to work." He vacated Dean's chair.

"Hey, Sam?"

Sam turned back in the doorway.

"Me and Cas are having a potluck thing this Sunday. You and your husband should come."

Sam smiled. "Sure. I'll have to talk to Gabe, but he'll probably be cool with it. He loves a party. Should we bring anything? Gabe's a great baker."

"Yeah. Bring a dessert then. Here." Dean scribbled his cell number on a post-it and handed it to Sam. "Text me when you know for sure."

Dean got back to work, but he had a goofy smile on his face for the rest of the day. He felt like the new kid at school who had just made his first friend.

~o0o~

People didn't get Sam and Gabe, and Sam had to admit they were a pretty mismatched couple. Sam was, to put it mildly, tall, and Gabe was, to put it kindly, not. He wasn't a midget, but he kind of looked like one when he stood next to Sam. And the personality differences were as stark as the physical ones.

Sam was, his inexplicable attraction to a certain diminutive, male pastry chef notwithstanding, a fairly typical straight American man. He drank beer or whiskey, watched football and action movies. He had never had the slightest desire to dress in women's clothes or sing show tunes. And the kicker was he didn't do certain things or avoid doing other things to project an image of masculinity. This was who he really was.

Gabe, on the other hand, was completely and unashamedly gay in every stereotypical sense of the word. He was fussy, flamboyant, and melodramatic. His favorite movie was _Sixteen Candles_, he could sing the entire soundtrack of _Wicked_ word perfect, and he did a killer Dolly Parton impersonation in a red dress, blond wig, and cowboy boots.

Four years on, Sam was still perplexed as to what exactly had made him take one look at Gabriel Shurley and abandon a lifetime of safe, comfortable heterosexuality. It might have had something to do with the fact that the man was a force of nature between the sheets (or indeed anywhere else that took their fancy). It was definitely partly because of the food. A man who could bake a good chocolate chip cookie could have his pick of men, women, and everything in between.

But it was probably mostly because underneath the drama queen/peacock/class clown persona there hid a truly good man. A man who gave free pies to the homeless. And not the cold, picked over ones that were left after the paying customers had gone. Fresh from the oven, baked just for them. A man who would stop in the middle of a grocery store aisle and do a magic trick for a crying child. A man who with one smile could make Sam feel like the most important person in the world.

"Potluck?" Gabe said when Sam told him about Dean's invitation over dinner that night. "Sounds very … suburban." His tone suggested that this was some sort of communicable disease.

"You do realize that if we're going to start a family, we're probably going to have to move to the suburbs at some point, right?" Sam said. "Two bedroom apartments in the city cost an arm and a leg, never mind three."

"I'm trying not to think about it." Gabe gave an exaggerated shudder of horror that was maybe one quarter sincere.

Sam smiled fondly at his melodramatic husband and reached across the table to take his hand, his thumb rubbing over the smooth band of Gabe's wedding ring. "If you really don't want to go, I won't make you, but this could be a golden opportunity, babe. They've been through this process. They'll be a much more reliable source of information than Google."

"Ah. So we're actually just using them for their gay baby making know how," Gabe said dryly, but Sam could sense that he was starting to relent. Despite his complaints about "domestication", he wanted to be a dad just as badly as Sam did, and he would walk over hot coals if it would help make that happen.

"That's what _you'll_ be doing," Sam said. "_I'm_ making friends, and I'm trying to convince you to tag along so I won't feel too awkward." He shamelessly turned on the puppy dog eyes and added in a wheedling voice, "Please?"

Gabe cracked in under five seconds. "Okay, okay. I'll come. You can stop looking at me like that."

Sam grinned triumphantly and started clearing the table. Since Gabe did most of the cooking, Sam usually got stuck with the dishes, but it was a more than fair trade. He kissed the top of his husband's head as he went past, having to bend almost double since the shorter man was sitting down. "I love you, you know," he said.

"Yeah. You better," Gabe grumbled, but he was smiling, and a second later he added just loud enough for Sam to hear it over the running water, "Love you too, ya big lug."

Sam smiled.

~o0o~

Cas did indeed crack up when Dean told him about Sam the gay giant from IT. Claire giggled too, but that was probably just because her dads were laughing and she didn't want to feel left out.

"You can go ahead and say it," Dean said as he coaxed another bite of mashed sweet potato into his daughter's mouth.

"Say what?" Cas asked, genuinely puzzled.

"You told me so. I got myself all worked up over nothing."

"I never said that. In fact I distinctly remember telling you that your fears were perfectly legitimate and I share them. I sincerely hope all your coworkers respond so positively, but I can't guarantee that they will. The important thing, as I said last night, is to stand firm and be proud of who you are because there is nothing wrong with you."

Claire gurgled as if in agreement and reached out to pat Dean's face with her sweet potato covered hands.

"I invited Sam and his husband to the potluck thing this weekend," Dean said, using a napkin to clean both himself and the baby. "Is that okay?"

"It's fine," Cas assured him. "Your dad's making chili, and you know he always makes enough to feed an army. If you hadn't invited them, I probably would have suggested it. We don't have many gay friends."

"We don't have many friends period," Dean pointed out. "We're both kind of homebodies. We prefer each other's company to pretty much everyone else in the world except Claire."

"And that's fine most of the time, but I think it would be good for Claire to meet a diverse group of people. It will develop her social skills, and if she grows up surrounded by a mix of straight and gay couples, she'll be more comfortable exploring her own sexuality."

Dean almost choked.

"At the right time obviously," Cas added, giving him an amused look. "You know she _will_ grow up and start dating someday, right?"

"I'm trying not to think about it," Dean muttered.

"Ah. So you're going to be _that_ kind of father."

"Damn right I am. No one's good enough for my baby girl."

~o0o~

It was late, and he knew he should really be sleeping because the baby would be up by six a.m. at the latest, but Cas found himself unable to close his eyes. He was mesmerized by the way the moonlight fell across his husband's sleeping face, bathing Dean in ethereal radiance like some kind of angel.

Dean's hand rested on top of the blankets, and Cas reached out to touch his ring, still in its place on his finger. The metal was warm from Dean's skin. Cas's hand trailed up Dean's arm, tracing the scars of a long ago battle that Dean had almost lost. He knew those were only a physical manifestation of the deeper scars Dean carried on his soul. He had no idea how Dean had managed to come through such hell with his compassion, his conscience, and his capacity for love completely intact, but Cas felt privileged to not only know this strong, kind man but to call him husband.

Dean made an adorable little snorting noise, and his eyelids fluttered partly open. "You watchin' me sleep?" he mumbled. "We talked about this, Cas."

"I'm sorry, my love," Cas said, knowing full well that Dean didn't actually mind one bit. "You're just so beautiful."

Dean huffed and shifted closer to Cas, burying his face in his husband's neck so Cas could only see the broad, well muscled expanse of his shoulders and back. Not a bad view either. "S' late," he said, his voice now slurred _and_ muffled. "Go to sleep."

Cas sighed and closed his eyes. He _was_ tired, and he felt sleep start to pull him under almost immediately, but he clung to consciousness for one more moment. "I love you," he murmured, hoping Dean was still awake to hear.

Sure enough, the familiar reply came a second later. "Love you too."

Then they both slept, safe and secure in each other's arms, lulled by the soft sound of breathing coming from the baby monitor. All was right with the world.


End file.
